


Magnesium Fires

by DianaSolaris



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghost Hunters, Banter, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Paranormal Investigators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 22:55:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11793195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DianaSolaris/pseuds/DianaSolaris
Summary: In retrospect, wandering into a haunted house with no backup had been a bad, bad idea. But it's amazing how much time you have to consider these things hanging in midair with a poltergeist deciding whether or not to munch on you. Poltergeist: 1. Keith Kogane: 0. Things Pidge can hold against him: too many to count.





	Magnesium Fires

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mellisah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mellisah/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Salt and Silver](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11238711) by [Mellisah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mellisah/pseuds/Mellisah). 



In retrospect, wandering into a haunted house with no backup had been a bad,  _ bad  _ idea. Keith knew this much  _ now.  _ Unfortunately, he was much better at realizing things in retrospect than - well - when they were actually useful. Perhaps it was the blood rushing to his head as he hung upside down in midair, his backpack of tools on the floor below him and  _ well  _ out of reach. He had a couple things at his belt, but nothing  _ useful.  _ Or that wouldn’t blind him.

Mostly, he was just getting a headache. The poltergeist wouldn’t stop  _ laughing,  _ and Keith grumbled, reaching into the pocket of his jeans and carefully trying to remove his phone.

“HAHAHAHA-”

“Would you shut  _ up,  _ you stupid ghost?” Keith grumbled, dialing Lance’s number - then thinking better of it. No, Lance would just laugh at him. Shiro - Shiro would lecture him. Hunk. Maybe?

His thumb hovered over Pidge’s number. If any one person was going to be able to get him out of this mess and back on the ground before he lost all feeling in his legs, it was going to be Pidge. He dialed.

_ “ _ _ "Voltron Psychic Investigation Agency- We fight your ghosts with the heart of lions!" _

Keith tried to suppress his groan. “Not you too. That is  _ not  _ our slogan.”

“ _ Aw come on. It’s kind of cute.” _

“I - Not the time. I need your help.”

“ _ What’s up? _ ”

Keith just held out his phone in the general direction of the poltergeist’s laughter. Something crashed horribly in the distance.

“... _ Did you go to the Silverman house on your own? _ ”

“It’s  _ one  _ ghost.”

“ _ And how many ghosts have you exorcised on your own before? _ ”

Keith paused. The poltergeist, after a brief break, started laughing again. Typical. “...Just get over here.”

_ “What’s stopping you from leaving? _ ”

“You don’t want to know. This one’s -” Something  _ else  _ crashed in the distance. “Ugh. Apparently gifted with levitation.”

“Keith.”

“Yes?”

“Are you upside down?”

“ _ No. _ ”

“Supernatural style. Next you’ll be on the ceiling burning up like a pretty blonde lady.”

“Are you going to help me or not?”

Pidge cackled on the other end of the phone. “Yeah, yeah. I gotcha.” Beat. “Hang around!”

“WHY YOU-!”

She hung up. Keith grumbled - then lost his grip on the phone, and reached for it with a yelp as it clattered to the ground below. Great. Okay. 

Time to wait. And hope the poltergeist didn’t decide he looked like a tasty snack.

 

\----

 

Pidge showed up about fifteen minutes later, holding a Starbucks cup and wearing a pair of oversized, mirrored sunglasses. “Hey Keith! What’s up?”

Keith crossed his arms and glared. The hair hanging around his face probably ruined the effect, but at least  _ somebody  _ was taking this seriously. There was a clash - “It’s coming back!”

Pidge lowered her sunglasses with a grin. “I can Hear it. It’s all good.” She took another step inwards - and threw a handful of salt into the air, the drafts scattering it here and there. There was a screech from in front of Keith -

“Gotcha!” She threw her Starbucks cup in its general direction, and Keith’s nose was filled with the smell of lavender tea. The poltergeist screamed again -

-and Pidge was suddenly yanked up in the air with a yelp, hanging by her ankle next to Keith.

Keith glared at her. “That was your plan?  _ Pissing it off? _ ”

“Well, it worked!”

“Wait, that was  _ actually literally  _ your plan?”

Pidge sighed. “Well, it almost worked.” She pointed to the chandelier in the middle of the room. “Look how much it’s shaking.”

“...You have a point.” Then he glared over at her. “And how do you propose we get from  _ here  _ to  _ there? _ ”

Pidge subsided into a sulk. “I don’t know, wise guy. How were you planning on taking care of it on your own? Magnesium flares?”

“Of course not. I mean, I have them, but that’s a last resort.”

Beat.

Pidge yanked an extra pair of sunglasses out of her jacket pocket. “I love how predictable you are, Red.”

“How about you go die in a hole?”

“Put them on and stop bitching.”

Keith grumbled a mocking response, then slid the mirrored sunglasses on, holding them on with one hand. The blood was  _ really  _ starting to go to his head. “Okay. So. My pouch is facing downwards, so you’re gonna have to be really careful.”

“Me? Why don’t  _ you  _ get them?”

“Do you want me to drop fifty magnesium flares on the ground? Gravity is not our friend, Pidge.”

Pidge glared at him. “Fifty? Why would you have  _ fifty  _ magnesium flares?”

“Shiro tells me to be prepared for anything.”

“I feel like that’s not what he meant.”

“Hey, I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Uh huh.” Pidge reached for Keith’s belt, carefully pressing on the pouch to hold it closed as she worked a magnesium flare out of the side. “You know there’s no guarantee this’ll work.” 

Keith paused. Then he sighed. “There isn’t. I came here to try that whole, y’know, compassionate exorcism thing.”

Pidge froze. She stifled a laugh. “You?  _ Compassionate exorcism?  _ You came here to  _ talk to it? _ ”

“Her.”

“Her, whatever.”

“Not whatever.”

Pidge sighed. “I know. Just - is that why you came on your own?”

“I thought it was worth a try,” he mumbled. “Don’t tell anybody.” He didn’t look at Pidge. He didn’t want to. Most Hearers had to put up with ghosts here and there, after they’d unlocked their powers - he’d heard them all his life.

Then Pidge’s hand appeared at his shoulder. “No problem.” Her voice was uncommonly soft. “There’s herbs in your backpack, right?”

“Yeah.” He had the usual kit - rosemary, sage, all the things for smudging. “...Why?”

“Anything in there you don’t want to lose?”

“Nah. It’s all replaceable - Pidge, what are you doing?”

She grinned. “Whatever you had in mind for your exorcism, start saying it.” She snapped the end of the flare, let it spark, then dropped it - down onto the floor, straight onto Keith’s backpack. It sizzled, caught, and then began to smoulder, rosemary-and-sage smoke filling the room.

The poltergeist’s screams began to heighten.

Keith had meant to speak loudly and boldly. But the smoke worked its way into his lungs, and he could only speak in a whisper. “Spirit of this house, may you find peace. Spirit of this house, may you find freedom. Spirit of this house, may you find glory in the beyond -”

The poltergeist began to appear, face pressing against the air like an imprint on glass. She was old, with hair like white clouds and a gaunt face.  _ Peace? _

Keith met her eyes. The smoke was thick around his face and hers. “Go now. You’ve done your part. And because of you, the world will continue to turn.” The words felt right, even though he’d never read them anywhere, or heard them spoken.

_ Perhaps.  _ And then she was gone, and he was falling, and then the floor was under him, cold as ice.

“...Well. That worked.”

Keith sat up, head spinning. The world was the right way up again. A few meters away, the chandelier lay shattered on the ground, pieces of crystal and glass were still rolling across the floor. “It...it did?”

“Gotta hand it to you, Keith. I didn’t think talking to poltergeists would work out.”

He looked over at Pidge, who was already on her feet and trying to stomp out the flaming mess of his backpack. “I’m glad it did.” He paused. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

She glanced up at him, then shrugged. “You had everything you needed. You would have figured it out.”

“Probably not.” He got to his feet, head still spinning, and nearly fell over - she caught him, steadying him.

“Careful there, Red. You did good today. Don’t pass out before I get the chance to brag about you to Shiro.”

“...Oh god. We have to tell Shiro.”

Well. It could have been worse. At least the house wasn’t on fire.


End file.
